


Dwarves Vs. Elves

by FountainsOfSilver



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Cultural Differences, Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), Dwarves, Dwarves vs. Elves, Elves, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Language Barrier, Male multiple orgasms, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Public Arousal, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Tender Sex, captive dwarf, pet dwarf, prisoner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 00:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15061589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FountainsOfSilver/pseuds/FountainsOfSilver
Summary: Placed in an alternate Tolkien universe (or perhaps just a different timeline) where the races rarely interact and therefore there is no shared language. A young Prince Thorin is captured by Elves and cannot talk his way out of his imprisonment (though even when they have a shared language he's not particularly skilled in that area, is he?).The point of view changes with each paragraph. Try not to get dizzy. ;)





	Dwarves Vs. Elves

“Don’t touch it!” Miel cried.

Valadhiel hesitated, looking back at her friend. Miel always had her best interests at heart and usually could sense certain dangers others could not. She didn’t think this was the case now though. They had always been told how dangerous these creatures were and it was hundreds of years of fear ingrained into Miel and concern for her friend’s safety that made her call out and not some premonition. Valadhiel felt no fear, only curiosity for what could this thing do to her? It was bound and forced to its knees. She also glanced at Thranduil, her King and cousin, who only looked at the creature with less interest than he had spent choosing his silks for the day. Thranduil seemed more interested in what she would do. She turned back to the strange beast. 

Thorin looked at the small feet and slender ankles ringed with small silver bells. The elf had hesitated before the death blow he had been expecting. He let out a slow breath and inadvertently took a deep breath, his lungs insisting on filling to capacity in these last moments. The elf’s scent was delicate and… female? A muscled twitched on his face and he clenched his teeth to suck air in through his mouth in an effort to not scent her, but could almost taste her fragrance that was somewhere between sweet and slightly salty like sea foam. His mouth watered and he found it amusing somewhere in the back of his mind given he would probably be meat on their table tonight. He supposed she was choosing her cut now. He did not expect it then when he felt her fingers’ gentle touch on his hair and though it was clear they wanted him on his knees with head bowed he could not help but jerk his head up to look at her. 

Blue eyes! She gasped and took a step back, drawing her hand away. Its eyes were bluer than the Summer sky. What a strange thing to think as they looked up at her with that searing blue heat. The guards who had it on its knees with their swords crossed in front of it and gouging each thigh pressed down harder to remind it that it was to keep its eyes on the floor. It looked back down, but denied no pain. It must be in pain though, Valadhiel thought and without thinking dropped to her knees and took the sword blades in her hands to grip them and keep the guards from pressing harder and down through muscle to bone. 

Elvish was so foreign to Thorin that he was certain even if they only spoke the same word over and over again, he would never understand. The words were slippery as wet serpents to his mind. She spoke meaningless words to the guards and to the one he supposed their King, but he though his mind fought to make sense of them he watched as a droplet of her blood slowly made a path along the blade’s edge. He was mesmerized by it. It was the same red as his. Suddenly, one of the swords was withdrawn, slicing her hand and making her blood rain down onto his thigh where it joined with his own. 

Valtin glared at Valadhiel with a wickedness in his eyes that said, “You’ll get what you deserve for protecting such a thing.” Valadhiel returned the glare with defiance and then looked away dismissively as if he was worth no more attention than that. She knew he would be more hurt by that subtle slight than she was by his sword slicing her hand. 

Her hands touched his thigh and Thorin wondered now if she would toy with his wound. Perhaps they meant to torture him. The immortals were sometimes that way, bored with their long lives and sought perverse pleasures to amuse themselves. So he had been told. They would get no reaction from him no matter what was inflicted upon him. A foreign sensation tingled along his thigh where she touched. It made his breathing erratic and his heart pound. He did not move his head, but raised his eyes to look up at her.

The creature’s eyes met hers again and Valadhiel realized it was not so different from them. It had a wild, thick mane of hair that cascaded down in spirals. Beneath thick eyebrows and the peculiar facial hair were features not so unlike an elf. Beneath that strange beard was more hair upon the beast’s broad chest. It was dark and angled down to a thin path across a belly whose flesh was taut against tense muscular ridges and led down to a thicker patch of hair above… the creature was definitely male. She looked at his flesh as it seemed to lengthen under her gaze. 

Thorin tried to back away from her thrilling touch as his own body rebelled against him. The she-elf moved forward quickly and put her hand on his other thigh wound and another jolt of pleasure sped through him despite his bracing himself against it. Even though he had willpower enough to deny crying out in pain, he could not help but hiss at this unexpected sensation. It was difficult to pull away from her on his knees as his exit was blocked by the two guards.

He was ashamed to be treated so, she realized. Animals were not embarrassed of their nudity nor were they aroused by a touch from a female not of their own kind. She was interested to find that he had been clothed when they found him in the woods. Thranduil had him stripped to remind him of his vulnerability and to help control him. Valadhiel was appalled and though she demanded his clothes be returned to him, Thranduil denied her appeals. 

He was surprised when the elf maid unclasped her cloak and wrapped it about his waist. The Elf King seemed annoyed at this, but permitted it. He wondered if she might be his mate for such a thing to be allowed. He wondered what the elf would have thought to see him so readily aroused by his wife. Thankfully, she had not touched him long enough to get more of a response and he kept his eyes averted from her and tried to breathe shallowly to avoid further arousal. Unable to understand them or they him, he was soon dragged away to be locked in the dungeon and brood upon the betrayal of his own body at her touch. 

Valadhiel could not get the dwarf out of her mind. Before he was taken away, he had stood and though he was shorter than her, there was no denying he had a strength of presence and carried himself as if he belonged there not as some beast for their amusement, but a peer. She had not known they could stand on their legs and walk as an elf. She had always imagined them scurrying about on all fours in their underground burrows. How little she knew of them and how curious he made her. 

He was surprised to look up from his sulking and see her standing outside his cell, staring at him. He had thought elves must be uncivilized and uneducated to treat his kind as they did. She had shown some small civility though and allowed him some semblance of dignity. Now it seemed she offered him his own clothing back though she did not avert her eyes when he dressed. He thought to toss her cloak upon his own waste in the corner of his cell as a sort of protest at his imprisonment, but she was the only one of the elves who had treated him to any measure of his due respect. He handed her cloak back to her through the bars and she smiled at him with shining green eyes.

Valadhiel was excited to find the dwarf not only remembered she was the one who gave him her cloak, but had manners enough to return it to her. She was finding more and more that he was less beast-like than she had been made to believe. Although, when she gave him some wine to drink he guzzled it down like water. She was a little worried that perhaps she shouldn’t have given it to him at first, but it seemed to have no effect and he looked at her in a way that made her think he might perhaps want more. She took to bringing him little treats and sometimes would reach in between the bars and stroke his hair. 

Thorin was perplexed by the behavior. It reminded him of something… He just could not readily recall what. He was torn between allowing it because it felt so good and pulling away because it felt so good. He could not deny he waited in great anticipation of her touch. When she had healed him it had filled him with a tingling sensation. His body ached to feel it again. Even without the healing, her fingertips were magic to make him long to see her to strain to smell her approaching scent. How he wanted to hear her soft unknown words as she caressed his hair. 

He became precious to her. Thranduil was angry when he found out she had been visiting the dwarf every day. “You cannot keep him.” He had insisted. “He is dangerous.” Of that she had no doubt. Valadhiel could not keep from him. There was such a pull to be near him and touch him that she could not deny it. She knew her cousin would forget him in the dungeon except that now he knew she went to the dwarf. She feared that if his annoyance grew at her continued visits he would most certainly kill him. Valtin had teased that they should cook the creature as in days of old. Knowing how it troubled her to hear such things he would go on about how good he had heard they tasted with such lean meat that if cooked properly would near to melt in your mouth. So she went from day to day fearing to go near him for his own safety and needing to see him for her own sanity. She had to know Valtin had not done some dreadful thing in his mischief. 

The she-elf arrived at an unusual time when next she came to Thorin’s cell. He was surprised to see her unlock and open the door. She must be there to take him back up for interrogation again, he thought, but noticed there were no accompanying guards. For just the briefest moment he thought he could easily kill her and make his escape, but the thought repulsed him so he only stood there looking at her. Mahal, but his grandfather would be appalled to know that he would stay her willing captive just to be hand-fed berries and drink their oversweet wine and have his head petted by her. That was when it hit him, he was her pet. Like the Men of Dale who sometimes closely bonded with their animals and would hold and stroke pups and kits. Dwarves held no such affection for animals, certainly not enough to feed a cat which would just as soon bite you as claw you. At least a dog could warn of intruders and be taught to hunt and therefore earn its keep. Thorin had acquaintance with a raven that had taught him the language of birds, but that was different than the cloying sweet way Men spoke to their pets. Even now she spoke to him softly knowing full well he couldn’t understand a word of what she was saying. He started to speak to remind her their languages were different and there was no such understanding between them, but she put her fingertips upon his lips and reminded him that they had other ways to communicate and that her slightest touch held power over him.

She was pleased that he followed as quietly as he was able. He was also clever enough to figure out and remember her hand signals. Dwarves were not the beasts she had been told about. As such, he didn’t deserve a life sentence or death sentence for simply trespassing to hunt their lands. She turned to look back at the dwarf who eyed her suspiciously, she had grown rather fond of him and his unhidden emotions in every glare. 

Thorin followed her through the thick woods. She led him climbing up along the side of a waterfall and then pulled him into it revealing a small cavern behind it. They were soaked to the skin and the air was chilly and damp, but Thorin couldn’t complain. She tugged at his boots which he was reluctant to release though he did at last. She held her hand out indicating he should not follow. Thorin sat on the ground by way of answer and was quite perplexed when she took his boots down into the river below. He watched through the water which screened him well enough in the dark cavern, but he could see her in the moonlight as she put on his boots and ran off making no effort to hide her way. Only then did he realize that her helping him escape might come at some danger to her. Soon a group of agitated elves made their way to the river, saw his bootprints on the other side and took off following them. Perhaps she would double back to her home and Thorin would be free to find his own way. If only he didn’t have such a terrible sense of direction…

As an elf she left virtually nothing disturbed by her passage, but the same could not be said for him. They would figure out she had helped him escape, but she could take his footprints all the way to the edge of their boundaries. They would think nothing of seeing little to no evidence that she had gone that way too. Let them think he had escaped and they would quickly return to tell Thranduil and the search would be over. Then she could escort him out when they thought him long gone. The dwarf was surprisingly fast on those muscular little legs of his, but he couldn’t outrun an elf. Safer for them to wait it out.

He watched as she washed his muddy boots in the waterfall and set them upon a rock further in to dry. He had not expected her to come back, though he had strained his senses watching through the waterfall for her return until it became too dark to see. The coolness of the waterfall made it difficult for his infrared vision to work, and not knowing if elves had the same knew that this was a good place to hide and wait. He explored the cave, which did not run deep, but had obviously been used as a temporary lodging before. 

She laughed when she saw he had found her hidden stash of Thranduil’s finest wine and had already emptied three bottles. He had also been clever enough to fasten a line to hang his tunic and stockings upon as they dried. His pants too lay across a rock nearby and he sat there on another rock in his underthings which she knew must still be damp as they clung to his thickly muscled body in a most enticing way. They could not start a fire, but she offered him fish and berries she had brought back with her. He had such a curiosity in his eyes that she was sure was mirrored in her own. 

Thorin had to question how smart she was when she handed him the knife, but she smiled at him in such a generous way that he felt guilty for once again thinking of turning any opportunity as a weapon against her. She meant for him to cut meat from the flesh of the fish, not to kill her when her back was turned as she removed the drenched and clinging dress from her body. It wasn’t the fine smoked meats the dwarves were known for, but meat was meat when you were half starved from the leaves and bread given by elves. He may as well have been eating the finest meal he’d ever had as he was entranced by the show of her removing her clothing and the wringing out of her long hair.

Not only was he not beast-like, but he handled the knife so skillfully she was certain he was not some primitive that had never used a tool. Had Thranduil not questioned him in the language of Men? Perhaps Dwarves had a spoken language as well. He made no sign of understanding her at all when she had spoken so soothingly to him before. She had hoped to tame him and keep him as a pet as Thranduil had feared. How she had wanted to have him walk beside her so she could stroke his hair and look at those eyes full of fire and ice. She had imagined she could keep him in her own quarters and read to him, feed him treats, and hold his warmth close to her when she slept. 

She was trying to speak to him again. It annoyed Thorin. It was difficult to grasp exactly what sounds were what. Khuzdul was very distinctive and articulated, elvish was so fluid it sounded like it was all one very long word. Again and again she said the word and he finally figured that she was trying to tell him her name. “Thorin the Second, son of Thrain, son of Thror, and heir to the line of Durin.” He replied irritably. He had cleanly severed each word from the previous so she would perhaps see how it was to be done. She looked so excited to see him reply that he felt a little guilty at purposely giving her his full title. “Thorin.”

“Thor-in.” She repeated it slowly as his words sounded so very foreign to elvish. He nodded to her once and put his hand to his chest to repeat it so she knew it was right. How beautiful his voice! It was deep and rich and his manner of speaking so unlike an elf. Elvish was like a flute that flowed from one note into the next, but dwarvish was like a drumbeat. Perhaps that was why he was having so much trouble understanding and being taught. “Valadhiel.” She said much more slowly and tried to enunciate it in a more dwarvish manner.

“Vala…” The last part he couldn’t wrap his tongue around. “Vala.” He stated as if that was all the effort he meant to put into it. It must have pleased her anyway because she smiled and stroked his hair and said Thorin again and again for his attempt. He was certain it was demeaning to have an elf treat him like a good pet, but they were alone and he had longed for her touch. A touch was a touch no matter what the language, he thought. But that wasn’t true, was it? His own father might pat his head, his friends might ruffle his hair, but her touch was different. It was no less affectionate, but it definitely created a different, more heightened response in him. Perhaps it was just her healing touch. Perhaps that was the magic she possessed to enrapture him. “Vala.”

When they had finished eating, she tugged at what was left of his clothing. Thorin was reluctant to remove it, but her teeth were chattering from the cold and they would not be able to sleep under the one blanket she had stored there with damp clothes, not with the chill that was settling into the evening. She said his name gently again and again until he pulled away and removed it himself. She too took off what little was left of her underclothes and she noticed Thorin averted his eyes until she called his name and motioned for him to join her under the blanket. 

It was only practical, he told himself as he lay down and curled up with his back to her. He did not expect her to so readily curl her body around him, but she was shivering so from the damp chill that his warmth must have been welcoming. How perfectly she fit to him, her legs tucked up under his and her forehead between his shoulderblades and under his long thick hair. She wrapped her arm around him and ran her fingers through his chest hair with a soft sigh as her shivering finally quit after several minutes and she fell asleep. 

He was so warm! Oh how she had wished she could have kept him! She imagined those cold Winter evenings in Mirkwood and having Thorin keeping her bed warm for her. Perhaps it was his dense musculature that kept him running hot or all the thick fur that covered much of his body. It had been strange at first, but as she pet him, she decided she rather liked it. His hair was softer than it appeared like warm down in a bird’s nest. His heat lulled her into a peaceful sleep.

How could she sleep?! She was a strange blend of soft and firm and Thorin’s mind just wandered along everywhere she was in contact with him. Her body slowly faded from cool to take in the warmth of him and Thorin supposed he must have slipped off to sleep, but woke when he rolled toward her. Her breath was soft against the top of his head and her body let off a warm glow. He just looked at her breasts wanting so much to touch them. Why should he want such a thing? He looked up at her slightly parted lips and wanted to kiss her too. The thought made his heart race. But why should it? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t kissed plenty before. Being the crown Prince he had been introduced first before any other to every eligible dwarrowdam. There had been no interest with any and it was assumed it was because he was so young yet and it almost always took some time to find a mate. Often he had been encouraged to kiss them and see if that didn’t bring about any change. The kissing was nice, but it always felt like an obligation. He had never desired it, not like he did now. 

She felt a pleasant sensation unlike any she had experienced before. She woke to find her Thorin had taken one of her nipples into his mouth and was licking and sucking on it gently as his hands carefully held her. Such a sensation that made a warmth flood between her legs and a giddy feeling in her belly. What… what was he doing? What did he think would come of such a thing? “Th-Thorin…” She gasped. Though dwarves could see the warm glow of a living thing, elf eyes were so sharp they needed precious little light to make out objects around them. His eyes turned toward hers and she could see that it was not a thirst like she had imagined. He had known such a touch would bring her pleasure?

He had wanted to taste of her lush pink lips, but the little pink nub had been closer and just as inviting to his mouth. With the warm wet of his mouth closing over it, it hardened instantly as he circled and lapped at it with his tongue. Seeing her now awake he made a few more little tugs with his tongue and lips and then closed in on her mouth. She let out a muffled cry of surprise, but did not resist him. Kissing had never invoked such a compulsion in him, such a need to taste her. It was as if her healing touch had awoken some need. He felt heated between his thighs. His lad was hard and wanted a taste too.

She felt his arousal build between them and realized he meant to take her as a lover. How easily her mind shifted from wanting him as a pet to wanting him in this new manner. She still had many preconceived notions about dwarves and thought he would take her as wild as a beast. Shouldn’t she be repulsed? Why did her heart race so? The thought of his rough loving excited and frightened her. That she would let him excited and frightened her too. She pressed herself against his ready need, her mouth desperate on his, her hands wanting to touch him everywhere. Then just as she thought he would certainly overpower her and take her, he stopped, leaving her a panting and trembling with want. Slowly, with meticulous care he began again, but this time he was slow, gentle, and loving. Her body writhed as she begged him in a language he did not understand in ways and words unseemly for a high elven lady.

Thorin had glanced down at his engorged length and knew better than to be rough with a lady, even if elves were the natural enemies of dwarves. She was not a dwarf and had such delicate features that he feared he would hurt her if he allowed his passions to get the better of him. How something could feel wrong and right at the same time he did not know, but a dwarf would not deny love once found. Thorin physically could not deny this. He may never get another chance to love again in his life and he would slow himself and be ever so careful with his fragile flower. 

Why wasn’t he in her already?! He lavished such love on her that she wept for want of him. She pleaded, she demanded, and she went back to pleading and crying again. How had he reduced her to such a thing? And WHY WASN’T HE IN HER ALREADY?! She grabbed him roughly and tugged at him, making him wince and only then did she sober and realize she was being too rough with her lover’s sensitive parts. She begged her apologies and lay her healing touch upon his shaft making his orgasm explode before intended and he sprayed her with his hot juices. 

He roared as he came unexpectedly in her hands. A dwarf will come twice as much as man or elf and he drenched her belly and breasts with his thick milk. That was not what he had intended at all, but she had gifted him such a truly magical thing that he was shaking and near to passing out every time she delicately touched him with fingertips that drew even more pleasure from him. Part of him wanted to pull away to stop it because it was more pleasure than he was made to bear, but shouldn’t a dwarf have more endurance than that? He fell to his side and she moved to get a better angle. 

Now she finally after all these years understood why Valtin would push himself so hard in his sparring and battles. She had been told her healing touch felt good, but never knew the extent of it. She had suspected some of Valtin’s injuries to be self-inflicted and felt bad now for having turned him to such a sadistic character, but he was not meant to be her lifemate. She put her hands upon her dwarf lover’s thighs and felt him tremble at her touch as she moved them up, closer and closer. She touched his balls and this seemed to revive the thickness. Like her, he was muttering some unintelligible pleadings. Sorry, my love, I don’t understand. She laughed softly, encasing the base of him with her fingers and slowly pulling up, up, up.

A second orgasm rocketed from Thorin, this time raining down on his own chest. She moved up to straddle him and he watched as she bent her head to lick a bit of the milky liquid from his own nipple eliciting a strangled moan from him as the aftershocks of two climaxes caused his body to spasm uncontrollably. His eyes rolled back in his head as he swooned. This was only brief for she pulled him to his feet and led him over to the waterfall where the air was wet. She indicated for him to sit and he did. He was a fine pet for her now, any dwarf would be repulsed to see their crown prince so easily commanded. But he would be commanded as she wished for he knew she meant him no harm and would give pleasures beyond compare. She washed him now. The icy water feeling good to his heated skin. He watched as her body glistened and glowed with the fine mist. 

He would wash her too it would seem. She was still on fire from his touch. Still she wanted. His hands slipped over her breasts kneading them gently as rough thumbs rasped across her sensitive nipples. Her eyelids fluttered and she sighed in pleasure. He had not been a beast at all, but he had turned her into one. She was like some she-beast in heat. She wanted him to know what he had done to her.

Thorin could tell. Her skin was flushed and she shivered and her body undulated under his touch. How she would dance for him. So beautiful. He pulled her into his arms still fondling her breasts as he took one of those precious pink buds into his mouth again. He watched her as her head fell back. Beautiful. He would build himself up again and take her slow as he originally intended. He would control the pace this time. A crystalline drop of water slid down her neck to rest in that little hollow between her collarbones. Finally enough had gathered there that it slipped from its confinement and dripped down to her breast where it slowed its path as it rounded along the inner curve. Thorin sat back mesmerized and watched as it slid around and finally continued down along the front of her sometimes hurried and sometimes slowed by her enticing dance. Again it hesitated at her hip until enough of it caught up and it quickly slid along that little ridge to disappear between her thighs.

Her dwarven lover cradled her in his arms as he lowered her to the ground and hovered over her laying kisses upon her neck and then lapping up the pool of water at her collarbone. He kissed her breasts, sucking little droplets of water from her flesh as he discovered them. He kissed her belly that was quivering with excitement. She was so ready for his sweet loving. How wrong she had been about him, how delightfully wrong. He was gentle and sweet. Being immortal meant one could wait hundreds of mortal lifetimes before finding a lover such as he. This must have been why she had been unknowingly so drawn to him. His touch was bliss upon bliss.

What stuff was she made of? She was made only to be clothed in the finest silk so like the feel of her skin beneath his lips and fingers. Thorin jealously retraced the path of that water droplet, sucking its kin from her flesh. Only he should be so close to her. If no other could make him feel such desire then she was made for he alone. He lingered at the crease of her hip and thigh, his tongue making long back and forth strokes that made her tremble beneath his touch. The smell of her sex tingled in the back of his nose and his tongue thirsted anew. He nuzzled her soft flesh between her thighs taking in more and more of her scent a low, rumbling wordless growl coming from deep in his chest that sounded to him like ‘you are mine, you are mine.’ In reply from her came a soft little birdlike cry that sounded like ‘I am yours, I am yours.’

Valadhiel let out a little squeak of surprise when his thick corded arms scooped under her thighs and drew her up. With her legs over his shoulders his gaze slowly took in all of her. For having been so brazenly demanding of him earlier, Valadhiel was suddenly embarrassed to be scrutinized so closely. There was little she could do with only her shoulders and head resting on the ground in such a constricted position. His long, steady gaze did not judge harshly if she could tell by his expression which looked at her warmly and full of some simple amazement. “Thorin… Thorin…” She begged softly and he looked deep into her eyes even as he lowered his head and began tenderly kissing her between her thighs, his eyes closing halfway as if in a trance.

Thorin was grateful for the thunderous sound of the waterfall which kept her keening cries confined to the cavern. This was not because he was afraid they would alert the elves to their presence. Thorin was at a point beyond caring about his own safety. All that mattered was he give a fraction of the pleasure she had gifted him. No, he was glad no others could hear because of his own jealous need to keep her all for himself. These sounds were only for him. The feel of her silken flesh only his to touch and behold. The taste of her was only for his mouth to drink and become drunk upon. 

Her mind was lost as every cell of her body was filled with ecstasy. Even as he lowered her to the ground, she was dazed and incoherent. Little sparks of light and color floated before her eyes. Her mind could not recall words until she saw those crystal blue eyes and then only one word made sense to her. “Thorin…” Her Thorin had taken her to a realm of delight and she thought nothing could be better until she felt him push into her. She was so tingly and sensitive there she felt the detail of every inch of him. He was perfection!

He would have her as his own. Her lids were heavy and her eyes distant until she looked into his. Ah, he would do anything for her if she would just look into his eyes. But when she said his name, his heart was hers alone. This beloved creature was for him, yet he recalled dimly his thought that he should be gentle. He pushed himself into her tight hold. Slowly, slowly he inched in watching her reaction and fighting his own desire to just close his eyes and force himself to her depths. Again and again she called his name, summoning him deeper within. Finally she gasped as he was full inside her. Thorin was shocked to find a dwarf and elf could be perfectly fit to one another. 

“Vala…” The low vibration of his voice set her to trembling just to hold him within. The slow, deep percussion of dwarvish resonated throughout her increased the tremor as she felt aware of every sensation on her body. His sonorous foreign tongue was most certainly a spell to arouse and entrap her and despite not knowing the words she felt their meaning with every fluid stroke of his thick perfection. She could do little but sigh in reply and submit to his loving.

Her sighs echoed in the cavern and throughout Thorin’s body. She twisted and undulated beneath him, creating a tighter friction along his shaft. His body tensed as he felt once again the rising sensation of his orgasm until he could hold it back no longer. He held himself deep inside her as he lost himself to every thick pulse. She seemed to want the same as her legs coiled around him and held him to her. 

Despite being out of breath he continued to speak unknown things to her. What did it matter what he said? His voice was beautiful. He was beautiful. For all she knew he could be describing how he planned to kill her, but she listened as if it were her favorite tale. And when he was finished telling it, she would have him tell it again. There was no coldness in those blue eyes, only warmth. His voice continued to seduce her even as he pulled away and crumbled to his back to continue to catch his breath. 

Would that she could understand him, Thorin thought. And if only he could understand her. He looked into her eyes and stroked her hair willing her to understand him. Her eyes how they sparkled in the dancing light. Still? He thought. Desire seemed to need no words. Her eyes and her touches asked for more of him. More. He would gladly give it. 

His kisses rained down upon her, his hands worshipped her body everywhere. He was all sweetness and love and still she wanted more. Her tongue teased his as her fingers toyed with his beard. She felt his growl in her mouth. Yes! More like that, but all she could do was let out a soft sound in reply. Her nails dug into his back as she pulled her body up to glide against his. The heat he put in her making her beg him to be inside her again. 

Thorin didn’t know the words, but the tone was clear enough. She was pleading with him, her lust unsated. He wanted her yet, but that part of him she kept coaxing with gentle touches was spent and would not respond until it was ready no matter how much he wanted her. That she would desire him so only added to his own. Both were in a frenzy of touching and kissing as they rolled atop one another.

Did he not understand she needed him inside her? Valadhiel showed him, slipping her finger inside herself while holding out her other hand to him. Her lover moved close, his hands eager to please her as one thick finger pushed inside. Ah, but he was gentle and slow again. She took his hand to guide him faster. He looked into her eyes and at last he seemed to understand, a dark flash in his eyes as he pumped his finger in her rapidly. She nodded and stopped him, her fingertips reaching out to where he hung limp. He smiled at her then, a smile so full of charm and apology as he tilted his head and shrugged. Oh precious, adorable thing! She was asking if he would, not if he could.

She rose to her knees, little kisses upon his face as her hand cupped him gently, her silken fingertips caressing the back of his balls the faintest tingling sensation reminding him she had a power over his own body that he did not. A throaty moan escaped him as he watched her admire his rise. The passion overtook him and he flipped her over to her hands and knees and filled her to the hilt. The words of his own language left him as he dug his fingers into her hips to lock her into place while he pounded her from behind. 

Valadhiel had wanted him to take her like a beast and he did. She came again and again until she was mindless from the pleasure he wrought upon her. Begging him to stop, begging him to continue in a language she knew he was beyond recognizing even if he had knowledge of it. She had brought this upon herself and she suffered deliciously in her own folly. She had underestimated the stamina of an impassioned dwarf. Endlessly he pummeled her and helplessly she took all he gave.

Thorin felt her tense repeatedly on his cock. She had already given him multiple releases and he was able to hold off on that final climax through a sheer animal need to demonstrate his own power. Any concerns over their physical differences had fled his mind to be replaced with one knowing: she was his mate. He didn’t think so much as he knew, as his mate she was built to withstand his needs. If she would ask a thing of him he would give it tenfold. 

Her mind tumbled up and over the brink again. Valadhiel’s body could no longer support itself and she crumbled to her shoulder, her face against her arm, Thorin still holding her hips in place. She couldn’t catch her breath and she was certain to pass out, but a thought flickered in her mind and she grasped onto it. She focused her power within her to that place where they were joined and suddenly Thorin let out a thunderous roar.

Thorin’s eyes slowly opened and he realized he was on their makeshift pallet, her head on his chest. Her slow, steady breaths tickled his chest hairs, but more than that he noticed everywhere anything was touching him. Not just the warm silkiness of her against him, but the texture of her cloak draped across him, every tiny rock pressed against his back, and the lazy pulse of his blood through every vein. It was as if she had injected pleasure under every inch of his skin and the touch of anything was good. Thorin was especially pleased by the occasional blink of her eyelashes against his flesh as she lay there quietly letting him rest. As her hand moved across his chest he let out a contented moan and closed his eyes again. 

She could not move. It wasn’t that he had injured her but rather that her muscles had contracted and released so often she was well past muscle fatigue. She had managed to get him back to their cozy sleeping place so they didn’t catch a chill in the waterfall’s mist, but only just that. She lay there contemplating her decisions and regretting none of them. 

Thorin woke again to the sound of elven voices. The party hunting him must have finally doubled back. He heard her voice too. Thorin crept to the edge of the cavern. He could only just make out three elves standing at the water’s edge and Vala speaking to them from the water. He did not like that she was without clothes for any male to see even if she was up to her shoulders in the water. Two of the elves remained back, but that one he did not care for, the one who had tormented him maliciously, stood too close to her. She pointed in the direction she had run with Thorin’s boots and then laughed. That one did not find her amusing. His tone became sharp, but hers returned as dismissive. Some things were the same between dwarves and elves, Thorin was finding. Tone and basic body language being some of them. The way the elf’s eyes lingered upon her when her back was turned was another.

She waited a bit longer after Valtin and the others left. It had been easy enough to confess to having helped the dwarf escape. It was true enough even if she hadn’t completed the task. She had told them she had seen the dwarf to their borders and pointed him in the direction of his mountain home. And that was what she was going to do just as soon as they left. When asked why she had not returned, she easily told him she was giving their King time to cool off. Naturally he would be upset and so she was waiting a few days until she felt it safe from his wrath. That HAD been her plan until the dwarf went to loving on her. Now she wasn’t so sure. She supposed that was his decision. All at once that realization filled her with both anxiety and longing. She would not be parted with him if she could help it.

He followed her as they moved quickly through the woods following the exact path she had taken with his boots before. Thorin hoped the elves would not think to look in that direction any time soon again and could tell that must be her thought as well. All the same, she hurried him along with an urgency that did not put his mind to ease. He would not be able to relax until they were well out of this accursed forest. There was only one place of safety here and that was with her, but at the moment he could tell from her quick movements even she did not feel safe in her woodland home.

Once they were out of the trees and well onto the rolling plains, she felt a flood of joy and relief with every step. She had never traveled so far and did not know what dangers were out here, but he would be safe. He was closer to his home. She had only ever seen the mountain from the forest’s edge and had always thought it seemed small and unimpressive. She knew now that it was just very far away, because at times she could only see the tips of the trees of her homeland. Sometimes it was nothing but grass and hills. There was no Greenwood. There was no mountain. They were between worlds. She turned to see if he needed to rest, “Thorin…”

Was she leaving him now? With every step he had felt the tension leave him. He would get glimpses of Erebor as they came over a hill and the forest no longer loomed behind them. He had even caught sight of the lake. Even he could find his way home if he could reach the lake’s edge. There Lonely Mountain would no longer leave his view. When they reached the lake they were on the edge of their journey together in this place where their worlds touched. He pulled her down in the tall grasses where they could see neither forest nor mountain and loved her. She may not understand his words, but certainly she must understand his actions.

His loving was so sweet, she would not have it ever end. When he stood at last after kissing and caressing her for what seemed to be both hours and mere moments, he held out his hand to her and she knew he would take her to his world and keep her there. She smiled at him and took his hand and when she did his face lit with a smile like sunshine. Despite their differences she could make him happy. 

He had been reluctant to let go of her, but a flood of relief and joy filled him when she took his hand. He led the way now, chattering on about his home and blushing madly when her laughter reminded him she didn’t understand a single word of it. It was no matter, he assured her that in time they would understand each other’s words. She seemed to understand his meaning if not his language, because she smiled at him and nodded.

No matter what happened, they were in each other now.

 

(The Beginning.)

**Author's Note:**

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